My brother Kyle was born 23 years ago in Ottawa, Canada when I was at the ripe old age of 14. We never got the whole story on why our age gap is so huge but we know it has something to do with our mother’s pituitary gland.

Nana, me and Kyle on Christmas day in 1985

My brother Kyle was born 23 years ago in Ottawa, Canada when I was at the ripe old age of 14. We never got the whole story on why our age gap is so huge but we know it has something to do with our mother’s pituitary gland.

When Kyle was three, I caught him lying on top of his best friend Warren, trying to kiss him. For the record, this is gay. About five years later I was living at home again due to a string of failures and overheard Kyle playing a penis game in the basement with his friends. The game was called, “Who, Who, Who are You and What do you Do?” and involved one kid putting his penis into a giant cardboard box while the guy inside the box looked at it and tried to guess whose it was. This is beyond gay and actually starts to tread on “homo” territory. Especially with his new age being 8 and not 3. Do you remember doing weird shit like that? You don’t? Well, you did.

I distinctly remember being consumed with guilt for all the weird things I did when I was his age. I mooned Jamie Beals before I knew what mooning was and his mom tore my bare ass a new ass. I also may or may not have looked up Cameron Cushing’s asshole with a flashlight (my memory is in the process of erasing this faint memory). I also think I may have tickled Jerry Alberty’s stomach to “Make the birdie come out” but I’m not sure. Anyway, the point is young boys often do weird shit like that and it’s not worth beating yourself up about.

Me in the foreground at 6 and Kyle in the background at 4 and then in the top right at 2

So, when Kyle’s friends came bounding into the basement where I was staying and explained Kevin Read had participated in WWWAYAWDYD I told them not to worry about it because it’s no big deal.

If you are ever in a situation like that don’t say what I said because each boy went home to their parents and said that Kyle’s brother said it was perfectly natural to touch each other’s penises. Ooops! After that, none of his friends were allowed to come over if I was at the house.

Besides the usual pre-pubescent gayness, my brother’s young life was typical of younger brothers. I tortured him every day and farted in his face as regularly as possible. When he threatened to tell our parents, I enthusiastically encouraged him and would go do it myself. What could they do? I was 20 fucking years old. Some might see shit like this as bullying. I call it training.

Kyle grew into a real man at an early age. Case in point (get ready, this part is serious shit): when he found out a good friend was being molested by her stepdad he got the police involved and saved her from they old man’s diddling fingers. Everyone at school was determined to know why the police showed up and interrogated Kyle and his pal but he refused to give up the goods. How about that? A 13-year-old with the greatest gossip of the year, telling his classmates it was “None of their fucking business”?

Kyle is so cheap his glasses are held together with rubber bands and duct tape

When Kyle turned 17 he went from tough-guy student to Pain Overlord. Thanks to the growth hormones they now put in chicken, my shrump of a brother was now over 6 feet tall. I could still beat him up using mental intimidation techniques but his sheer strength was starting to chip away at my powers. In July of 2001 we were wrestling in my parents backyard and he got me into a nelly of a hold. What I would usually do in these situations is say, “Oh you’ve really done it now” and leap out of the hold like The Hulk, pounding him into oblivion in the process. Only this time I couldn’t move. I warned him again that this was getting serious and he had better run because I was about to end his life. He held steady and I made a second attempt to split loose which only made the hold hurt more. He was cutting off my oxygen like a boa constrictor. Eventually I had to beg for my life by whimpering, “OK OK let me go, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” And we both got up totally freaked out by what had just happened. Kyle had snatched the pebble from my hand and I was no longer My Miyagi or whoever the pebble guy was. If you are an older brother (or worse, a twin) and you’ve even been dethroned, you know how traumatizing this moment is.

Freed from his tormentor, Kyle went on to kick the living shit out of anyone who fucked with him and often keep going well after their shit was kicked. He graduated with honors from Ottawa University’s business school and decided the world was his new stomping ground.

Kyle in the Egypt or Turkey or some shit

In Korea looking like Dwight Schrute

In Israel doing stuff with the army

Kyle’s back in Canada now. He lost his job after leaving Korea to go unplug his buddy in Thailand after a motorcycle accident. Besides running a bunch of tech blogs, he runs this one and looks for funny stuff on the web. I am no longer scared of him as I never challenge him but sometimes we play pool and make a rule where you get to punch the guy in the arm if he sinks the white ball. His punches feel exactly like you have been punched in the nuts if your nuts were on your arm and each time I feel their dull sting I think to myself, “Being a teacher is the most thankless job there is.”

Hmm, this is interesting. Would you prefer to look like you had some mental deficiency, but actually have a hilariously big dick. Or be an almighty pussy/cock magnet with a face so alluring you don’t even have to speak to anyone you’re just instantly fuckable, but just packing average size?